The Same Company
by stargazing.from.earth
Summary: She's tired of Riddle's games when she knows she's honestly figured him out. Now, if he can just put aside her snark and read what she's really trying to say. (A Tom Riddle Oneshot, may continue if requested) (T for a tad bit of language and themes, just to err on the side of caution.)


"And what would you do with me once you had me?" I ask, my voice creeping upward- in fear or anger, I don't honestly know.

"Oh, well, of course I'd show you all the outward affection you could desire…And then use you to seduce my enemies. A little love in a cruel man's heart can cause his downfall." Tom gives me a fearsome smile- all sugar sweet and feigned pure white innocence. So deceptive.

"Ah, but Riddle, you lose track of the fact that love and lust don't always hold the same company," I say snidely, grinning like a wicked little child begging for a scolding, my anger taking over. The inkling of fear I always hold in the presence of Tom Riddle has miraculously trickled away.

The corners of Tom's mouth turn up ever so slightly at my words and he states gently, "But they do indeed have the same effect on a man's thoughts."

"Maybe for some," I concede, but as Tom grins triumphantly, forever needing dominance even in conversation, I continue, "But you're still forgetting one minor detail…" I trail off and give him the widest, sweetest and most saccharine smile I can muster.

"And what would that be?" There's a hint of annoyance edging in on his voice and I can see the small flash sparking in his cold, dark eyes.

"Love and lust can cause the downfall of many things; power, wealth. Those emotions can do that, that's entirely true. But love and lust? There are also the things that allow men and women alike to triumph over the greatest obstacles. You make a man fall in love to give you what you want…" I shake my head at the handsome boy in front of me. "But you give him the very feeling that allows him the courage to stand up to you."

Riddle's eyes narrow and he regards me with more seriousness now. I can see the war going on in his mind through the window of his eyes. Oh, how I delight in getting under his skin, and causing him to rethink his arguments.

And then I continue onto the other thing, the one that will really anger him.

"Riddle…you won't whore me out to some turned-good Knights for more reason than that it will backfire on you." I've learned of the way the mind of Tom Riddle works, and though it is a dark place, I can discern his thought process to the point where he's predictable.

"And what reason could I possibly have for not using you in this game? You are all pawns in the scheme of things."

I shake my head furiously and then look at the charming boy evenly. I want him to hear each and every word I say, and I want him to take it to his cold, black heart. I want to see in his matching eyes that he already knew the truth. Maybe he won't admit it, but he'll acknowledge it to me right now through one of his looks, or I'm not nearly intelligent as he himself makes me out to be.

"Tom Riddle, you won't use me as a pawn, because I'm the only person you've ever loved."

I can see the fire in his eyes burn brighter than ever. His eyes are molten orbs, burnt black, piercing straight through the ice of my own eyes. We should be incompatible, we both know. But from his perspective, this feeling so passionate and so strong-willed it might as well be hatred, has to be something real. Or perhaps a defect of his heart that isn't supposed to beat.

Whatever those feelings are, to Tom Riddle, they couldn't possibly be love.

I expect him to slap me, or perhaps stalk from the room, fuming. For someone as blank and cold as Riddle, it must be difficult to admit to yourself that you have emotion other than hatred. But as I stare at Tom, my eyes holding his wearily, he does something completely, entirely, and wholly unexpected;

He reaches forward, brushes his hand across the side of my face in a caress, and smashes his lips down onto mine with a ferocity never seen before. And the scary part of the full ordeal is that I don't protest.

My lips move in synch with his just as eagerly.

**Author's Note: Just a little Tom Riddle oneshot :) Hope you enjoyed! It actually came to me at like four in the morning after I had woken up from a dream one night, so that's a new strategy for writing! Haha. Let me know what you think, and I could perhaps form a story around it.**


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